My issue with government

I realize that this post may attract or invite comments - inflammatory ones - that may become offensive. I ask, kindly, that you resist the urge to blow up my Facebook page or my blog with such comments. I welcome opposing viewpoints, when offered intelligently, concisely, and reverently. But please bear in mind that this blog - MY blog - is a representation of my own personal viewpoints, interpretations, and opinions. It is not now, nor has it ever, claimed to be matter of fact. Bearing that in mind, please enjoy the following offering:

As the campaign season is upon us, in full swing, we are constantly bombarded with messages about how we should think or feel about a topic, a candidate, or an issue. I, for one, have grown weary of being essentially mandated to pick between the lesser of two (or more) evils. I am tired of selecting my candidate from a list of mediocre choices, all of whom give me cause to begin searching for land-purchase opportunities in Canada or Central America. Quite frankly, the election process has me often more angry and confused than excited to exercise the privilege of casting a ballot. Anyone else feel this way? I want Camelot back.

More than that, however, I am growing frustrated at the level of stupidity the government must believe that I, or at the very least the whole of society, must possess. Why does government, in any form or fashion, get to dictate to me how I raise my kids or how I spend my money? Is it just me, or do some of these things seem completely unconstitutional? I give you the following two examples: (1) mandatory HPV vaccinations, and (2) "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" (DADT) and/or "gay marriage."

I begin with the HPV vaccination issue. HPV (human papillomavirus) is a sexually-transmitted disease that has been linked to cervical cancer in women. This link has recently been called into question with a study done by the CDC that showed that 95% of HPV-infected women did NOT get cervical cancer. Obviously, there is a lot of work to be done in this area, as the HPV studies are all relatively new and somewhat inconclusive. That aside, Governor Rick Perry signed an executive order in 2007 mandating all teen girls in the state of Texas get the HPV vaccine. This was later overturned by the state legislature, but not without harsh criticism from Perry, and serious opposition in his recent debates with other Republican presidential hopefuls. This particular issue irritated me. I have a daughter. Do I need government telling me to vaccinate my girl against an STD? Let me give my personal opinion on the matter. I would likely vaccinate her. In fact, I think it's a safe bet that I would and will vaccinate my daughter - all of my kids, actually - against any and all diseases if I knew for certain that it could and would eliminate, or at least drastically reduce, the probability that they would get the disease. That's just good parenting, if you ask me. My issue is this: why does the government get to decide what "good parenting" is? Why do legislators who don't even live in my neighborhood or send their kids to my schools get to decide what vaccines are needed and which are not? Oh, I know what you're thinking - she doesn't vaccinate?? No, I definitely do. And I believe everyone should - especially against very highly communicable diseases like measles, mumps, pertussis, etc. But HPV is a sexually-transmitted disease. It's transmitted during sexual contact, not coughing in the same classroom as my baby. Something like that, I believe, should be at the parent's discretion, not the government's. Isn't this also why we don't have mandatory birth control? Moreover, I hate the idea that government thinks I am such an idiot that I wouldn't look into issues to protect my child's health. I know there are plenty of morons in the world that don't, but it irritates me to be governed as if I'm one of them. Or governed by one of them... as a side note, Michele Bachmann, no study conducted thus far has shown the HPV vaccine to cause or be linked to mental retardation... apparently, that's just you.

Now we come to issue #2. The "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" issue. This could get sticky. See, I personally believe that marriage was created for a man and a woman. I personally believe that if a guy wants to make a promise to another guy to be faithful and monogamous, then he should certainly be allowed to do so through a "civil union" - a promise recognized by the state to receive benefits and rights as two humans who have vowed to run their household jointly. Just don't slap the label of "marriage" on it, because that word was set apart by God to represent the union that He created. I, in my heart, believe that such unions were intended for men and women to join, to create families, and to give rise to future generations that promote lineage. However, I don't believe that homosexuality is any more sinful than things that I do daily - lie, lust, mistreat my body, etc. Let's be real, folks: who among us does not sin? Hate to be the one to break it to you, but all sin - ALL SIN - is ugly and black and unholy and cannot be in the presence of a holy God. So we ALL fall short of the glory. ALL of us - homosexuals, heterosexuals, blacks, whites, rich, poor, whoever. No one escapes this life without sin. So why bother to point out how two dudes committing is so bad? I didn't realize that you hadn't ever done anything God wouldn't be proud of... just sayin'. Meanwhile, let's bring it back to the DADT policy. I never liked this policy, but I understood why it existed. Let's be real for a minute. We may all say we know a gay person and they are our best friend or whatever. But if we didn't know this person so well, would we be comfortable undressing in front of them? Sharing a bunk with them? A shower? Likely not. So if the majority of the military is "straight" and only a few are "gay", it seemed to make more sense to keep the gays quiet so our military could function. That sucks, but it seems to be at least logical. So now what? While I don't personally have any issue whatsoever with a person's sexuality, perhaps we need to look at it from a logistical standpoint. Furthermore, I have issue with ANY person in uniform having "inappropriate displays of affection" in uniform - whether you are kissing a guy or a chick. Bottom line here: the military is your job, and it is also your life. Perhaps the guidelines should be more strict across the board? No one needs to see anyone else's tongue down anyone's throat - regardless. Class it up, Department of Defense. And to the members of our military who think that since DADT is gone that they may flaunt about with their sexuality, remember this: you signed up to be a soldier/sailor/airman/marine/etc. FIRST, and an ordinary US citizen second - meaning that when you took the oath, you pledged to follow the military lifestyle with all of its rules, despite what you think is fair or cool or whatever. I know, because I took that oath once, too. It isn't easy - but that's the beauty of having a VOLUNTEER MILITARY - no one MADE you agree to this lifestyle. You agreed to it, deal with it. So, to wrap this up, I think that homosexual unions should be allowed, homosexuals should be allowed to serve in our military, and government should butt out of both of those instances. But the individuals who participate in those commitments - both civilian and military, gay and straight - should respect the commitments that they make, whether to one another or the government they serve.

I realize that I get worked up, and may sound harsh sometimes. I guess, for me, it's just super-frustrating to think that our government - which is of the people, for the people, and by the people - seems to represent only itself, not its constituents... unless it is that we are all completely silent, and unwilling to make our representatives hear how we feel. Or do we, the majority, really feel this way? I don't know. But I believe in the privilege of voting, and I encourage everyone to do so. No one gets the right to complain if you haven't cast your ballot.

E pluribus unum

As the ten-year anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 approaches, most of America seems to be in a state of reflection. I am no exception. It's difficult not to think about an event that changed the way the world looks at America, and the way America looks at the world.

Every American over the age of about 14 has a story about that day. Where they were, what they were doing, and who they were with. Again, I am no exception.

I boarded a train on Atlanta's north side and headed into my office downtown. I worked for SunTrust Bank as an Investment Specialist. Specifically, I worked in the SunTrust Securities office, collateralizing and securing deposits of government entities. It sounds more complicated than it was. However, it required me to attend monthly telephone meetings with traders in New York City to move and gain assets to cover the deposits held by our bank in the name of customers like the City of Baltimore. As I did most mornings, I sat on the train with dozens of other early-risers headed into the city. We didn't speak to one another, and often never raised our eyes above the newspaper to even acknowledge one another. The faint smell of cheap coffee rose above the smell of bus exhaust at the last stop before I would exit.

Once in downtown, I gathered my belongings and stood. Once the double doors opened, we made our way like herded cattle out of the station and onto the bustling city streets. Even at just 7:30 in the morning, downtown Atlanta was a busy city with people coming and going every which way. I headed to my building and pushed the button for the 23rd floor and waited - stopping at seemingly every floor. Finally, I made my way to my desk, stopping grab a cup of lukewarm coffee and settle in to my morning routine: checking my mail, sifting through my inbox, and checking my voicemail.

By 8:30, I had settled in the conference room for a meeting. Our entire team was on a conference call to our partners in New York, located in the World Trade Center. We began discussing our usual business. Not a lot of small talk, which I recall made my team uncomfortable. I recall my boss saying once of our New York partners, "they are rude and abrasive." Thinking of the accounts for which I was responsible in Maryland and Virginia, I asked about purchasing assets for collateral. Before my Yankee representative could finish discussing possible allocation, a strange "crinkle" noise came over the line, and then it went dead.

We were unable to reestablish our connection, and left the conference room bewildered. The televisions on our trading floor were on during business hours every day - usually tuned to Bloomberg TV. As we left the conference room and headed past the trading room floor and back to our offices, we caught a glimpse of a news reporter with a caption that read something like "world trade center fire". At that point, we had no idea that anything other a freak accident. We turned the volume up and listened as the reporter explained that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. My heart sank a little. But before I had the chance to put together the events from the phone conference and the images of smoke plumes shooting out of the first World Trade Center tower, I watched an airliner drive into the second tower. And I had the sudden urge to vomit.

It was at that moment around 9:00 that I realized that what I was witnessing was no coincidence. We were unofficially, but undeniably, under attack. By whom? And why? How come we didn't know? Are we vulnerable everywhere? I was filled with a million questions, but even if I knew the words to speak, my tongue seemed to be swelling inside my mouth and my jaws felt as if they were locked tight. My knees seemed weak. I wasn't sure if I had begun to sweat through my suit, but I felt certain that I wouldn't be the only one. Everyone in the room seemed white as a ghost and almost immediately grief-stricken. I couldn't help but turn my eyes slightly left to peer out the windows. Only minutes from Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport, I had developed what previously had seemed like an irrational fear of rogue jets escaping the runway.

I decided to head back to my desk and figure out what work I might be able to put off to another time - a time of less distraction. After a few moments, I looked up and find a much larger crowd had gathered around the television. People I didn't recognize, perhaps from another floor or department. I stood up and made my way back to the television. As if in slow-motion like a dream, I saw something horrific and devastating: the south tower crumbled to the ground. I pulled my hands up to my mouth as if to keep a scream from escaping. I let out a gasp, just to keep myself from fainting.

I honestly don't remember the second tower collapsing. Everything in the next hour is a complete blur. I know that at some point I returned to my desk and gathered up my things, leaving my computer on and my voicemail inactivated. Our building manager informed us that the train service in Atlanta would likely be temporarily halted and that we should leave immediately. It seemed as if I hadn't even blinked, but had gotten myself off the train, into my car, and was putting my key into the lock. I went inside and immediately turned on the TV. I then learned that an airplane had hit the Pentagon, and another crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. The wave of nausea I felt before seemed to be rising up in me again and I needed to sit down. Then I remembered that I had a son, 2, waiting for me at a day care 20 minutes away. In a panic, I rushed to grab my keys and make my way to the school.

That evening I couldn't help but squeeze my baby boy a little tighter, and my husband a little closer. I now felt something I had never felt before: fear. I was afraid of an enemy I didn't know and couldn't see. I was afraid of being attacked for reasons I didn't know or understand. I was afraid and I didn't know how to be anything but.

In the past 10 years, I have grown used to the inconveniences associated with travel and the security associated with visiting any government building. I have seen firsthand the faces of war. The world is a very different place. And I have learned to accept life in a "post-9/11 world". But I have never forgotten that day.

My two younger children have never known life any different, and a part of me mourns for them. They don't remember being able to walk a family member to the gate at the airport, or not having to be fondled before going there. They don't remember a time of innocence in America. They don't remember a time we weren't involved in "the war on terror". The only "normal" they know is war - a war that took their family members away to a land halfway around the world to fight an enemy they couldn't find.

I often wish I could, but I can't forget that day. And I fear that I never will. But perhaps it is important to bear the burden of the memory... so that we may never be victimized again.

If I had to find silver lining it is this: we had become reunited with our fellow Americans. We forgot how we were different, if even just for a short time, to come together as American people. Out of many, we rose again as one...

Katrina: 6 years later

Six years ago today, I witnessed the fury and power of Mother Nature as she blew into the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Hurricane Katrina was one of the most awesome and terrifying displays of power my eyes have ever beheld. Even after six years, I won't ever forget it.

In the days before the storm, most coastal Mississippians were busy in preparation. Fully aware of the destruction she left in her wake on the beaches of Miami as a Category 1 hurricane, local residents proceeded with their pre-storm preparations. Meanwhile, Katrina spent 4 days churning over warm gulf waters, building herself into a massive Category 5 hurricane, with sustained winds around 175 miles per hour, and gusts up to 215. By August 28, mandatory evacuation orders were issued in Louisiana, Mississippi, and parts of Alabama in anticipation of her arrival. Up in the Jackson area, where I lived, we were told to anticipate thunderstorms - some may be severe - heavy rainfall, and wind. Essentially, no real preparation was necessary. So, we kept the television on and watched for our friends to the south. In Jackson, we had no supplies, no plan, and no idea what was about to unfold...

On the morning of August 29, 2005, Matt and I were in a "business as usual" mode. Matt went in to work at his usual time. The kids did not have school that day. By mid-morning, the skies were black and the clouds were thick with rain. Ominous in the background, I decided to turn on The Weather Channel. Katrina, big and aggressive, was already working her way into New Orleans and battering the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Matt came home before lunch, and the skies began to pour. I had never seen rain so heavy, so thick, and so continuous. By mid-afternoon, we had lost power, roof shingles, a few trees, and all hope of escaping Katrina's wrath unscathed. The weather reports had been, initially, that Jackson should anticipate Katrina being only a tropical depression... she hit central Mississippi as a Category 1 - 2 hurricane. Our guard was down and we paid dearly.

By nightfall, the kids were tired and afraid. We had no power, and all of us assembled in the coolest room of the house to eat and listen to the radio by candlelight. Our fears of total devastation were realized upon hearing initial reports from the only local Jackson station broadcasting at the time. While news from New Orleans was grim, our neighbors directly south in places like Long Beach, Biloxi, Kiln, Bay St. Louis, and Pascagoula, were downright heartbreaking.

After 4 days without power, having eaten all of our canned goods and bread, and having burned all of our candles and used all of our remaining batteries, I penned the following in my journal:

I feel certain that 50 years or more from now people will know what I'm talking about. Hurricane Katrina. We had no idea how bad it was going to be. Biloxi and Gulfport are gone. New Orleans is ruined. It's all just total devastation. I don't even know where to start. I'm going to begin by explaining our current condition. Here in the Jackson area, it's rough. I'll start by saying that here in our home, we're learning to cope. At present, it's 96 degrees, humid, and dark. We have no power. So, we have no air conditioning. Not even a fan. We have to boil our water. We'll have to throw out a freezer and refrigerator full of food that will spoil if we don't get power back on soon. They say most places will be without power for weeks. There is no ice or water in most of the state right now. Nor is there gas. And if there was gas, it's over $3 per gallon in some places - if they have power to pump it. We've heard that there are some folks selling gas to people waiting in line for $20 a gallon. Or folks charging $6 a gallon at the pump. So, we've got nothing. And no way to get anything. If we could go out, I doubt it would do much good - no stores have power. Most stores will only take cash since the credit card machines are down. Unfortunately, we've got no cash since the ATMs are down, too. We are fortunate enough that our family is all okay, and our house only suffered minimal damage. I say that because the Mississippi coast line is destroyed. Leveled. There are no words that could possibly describe how incredible this hurricane was. I've never seen anything like this. And I've been fortunate that I've now lived through it with no harm done except terrible inconvenience. I would never want to make like of the situation, but it's been hard for me with the kids. We've got no air conditioning in this heat, no food or water, no way to leave, no money. We just feel helpless. And our only real connection to the world outside is the radio - if our batteries hadn't died. We know it's bad out there, but we haven't seen it yet for lack of power. Here in Clinton, we've got trees down all over the place, no power anywhere, no clean water, no ice, no gas, and NO PATIENCE! But in New Orleans they say there are bodies floating in canals, people sitting on roofs waiting to be rescued, people starving to death or dehydrating, hospitals losing power. At the Superdome, 10,000 evacuees are knee-deep in water, no power, no running water. They have to urinate and defecate in barrels that are overflowing. They're starving. And they're scared. We even hear rumors that a man killed himself inside. The military is supposed to be flying down to help evacuate those people to Houston, but had to stop because someone fired shots at the helicopters. It's so chaotic. And looters have gotten all the retail buildings picked clean and are now looting hotels and hospitals! That completely blows my mind! And all that is just New Orleans. I haven't mentioned the Mississippi coast or Hattiesburg yet. Hattiesburg was hit hard - third worst behind New Orleans and the Biloxi/Gulfport area. Gulfport and Biloxi are totally wiped out. The casino industry on the coast no longer exists. One casino was gutted up the third floor. Another was picked up and placed atop another. And another was thrown to the other side of highway 90. There really aren't any buildings left from the beach to about a mile inland. Matt says it looks like a nuclear bomb went off. Slabs with no houses. It's just incredible. The awesome power of Mother Nature! People in New Orleans are just wandering aimlessly on the freeway overpasses because they're starving and thirsty and completely displaced. In the Biloxi/Gulfport area, the death toll keeps rising, the bridges are wiped out, the power company has lost its ability to generate and distribute power. There is such a difference between the destruction in New Orleans and the destruction in Mississippi. On the Mississippi coast, there simply is nothing left. New Orleans still exists, just under water. And I should mention Mobile, too. Mobile is flooded. Storm swells pushed ships into one another in the bay. 50 years from now, if someone reads this, I hope they can truly understand that this storm has changed everything. The Mississippi coastline has been wiped out. New Orleans is forever changed. And our hearts are changed, too. Iraq hurt us. September 11 shocked us. But this... Hurricane Katrina hit home. Our own neighbors have lost everything. And all we can do now is sit, wait, and pray. We all want to help, but we just can't get help to the ones who need it. There are people who are absolutely desperate to survive right now. When I think of all the mothers and fathers who can't feed their children, or themselves, or the kids who are hungry and scared, or the sick and hurt who just need help... it just breaks my heart. It's beyond words. They're calling it the worst natural disaster on US soil. But I was one of the lucky ones... I survived.

We would go 5 more days before power was restored. We managed to drive an hour north - nearly exhausting our gasoline - to find an ATM that was operational and had cash and a grocery store that still had bread and canned goods and batteries.

Matt was deployed shortly after our power was back on to spend 4 months on the Mississippi coast at Keesler AFB, helping the Army with "Operation Blue Roof". He rode from Biloxi to New Orleans in a Blackhawk, taking incredible aerial shots of the massive destruction. I was proud of him - and all of the Army - for their recovery efforts, though it must've felt overwhelming.



The casino blown across the highway:

My brother-in-law deployed with the National Guard to perform search and rescue operations, that later turned into recovery efforts, marking property to inform of bodies left on the premises.





After all this time, Katrina is still a very real presence in our lives. It changed the way we prepare for a storm, the way we deal with the storm, and the way we recover from a storm. In the weeks and months that followed Katrina, Matt and I were forced to make difficult decisions about future weather systems. We had plans in place, kits and supplies, and established escape routes. We would never be caught unprepared again.

The Mississippi coast is rebuilding, but it will take time. Even now, her beautiful historic coastal communities, with magnolias in full bloom and mossy oaks, remain scarred from the wrath of the worst storm to hit our nation since record-keeping began. Mississippians will recover, but they will never be the same. Katrina leaves a foul taste in the mouths of those who were blessed enough to survive. But that's what Mississippians do - they pick themselves up, wipe off the mud, and persevere.

What's in a name?

I remember asking my parents some years ago about how they came to decide on my name. Was I named after a family member? A place? A time in their life? No, it turns out that they just happened to hear my name called out to another child and they liked it. So, they gave it to me.

In the Bible, many of the characters we read of were given their names based on a particular characteristic or trait their parents saw in them. For example, Esau was given his name because he was "red, and his whole body was like a hairy garment" (Genesis 25:25), and his brother, Jacob, was given his name because he "came out, with his hand grasping Esau's heel" (Genesis 25:26). Some characters had their names changed because of an intimate encounter with God. Abram was known as Abraham after he and God made a covenant. Scripture says, "Abram fell facedown, and God said to him, 'As for me, this is my covenant with you: You will be the father of many nations. No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations.'" (Genesis 17:3-5)

Names have significance. They describe people, and places, and help us to fulfill an identity given us by our Creator. It is what we are called, how we are known, and what we will answer to. It separates us from everyone we are surrounded by, and defines our lineage.

So what about the name above all names?

Jesus was given a number of names. The Bible calls him: Jesus, Prince of Peace, Mighty God, Wonderful Counselor, Holy One, Lamb of God, Prince of Life, Lord God Almighty, Lion of the Tribe of Judah, Root of David, Lily of the Valley, The Living Water, The Door, The True Vine, Yahweh, Word of Life, Redeemer, Master, Author and Finisher of our faith, Advocate, Rabbi, The Way, Dayspring, Teacher, Immanuel, Bridegroom, Lord of All, I Am, Son of God, Shepherd, Messiah, Son of Man, The Truth, Savior, Chief Cornerstone, King of Kings, Righteous Judge, Light of the World, Head of the Church, Morning Star, Son of Righteousness, Lord Jesus Christ, Resurrection and Life, Horn of Salvation, Bread of Life, Governor, Alpha and Omega (just to name a few).

But what good is a name if it has no meaning, no power? If I tell you "John Smith is coming to dinner" you might ask me, "who is that?" But if I tell you "Bill Gates is coming to dinner" you would probably rush to polish your silver and clean off your fine china. His name has significance. Bill Gates has power and authority, to a degree, and can greatly impact your life - especially if he's coming to dinner at your house!

And what about the name of Jesus? What kind of power and authority does he have in our lives? Scripture has a lot to say about this. In the book of Acts, you can find many examples of the apostles calling on the name of Jesus to perform miracles, and bring God's children closer to Him.

There is a beautiful song called Your Great Name that sums it up nicely:

Lost are saved, find their way... at the sound of Your great name
All condemned feel no shame... at the sound of Your great name
Every fear has no place... at the sound of Your great name
The enemy, he has to leave... at the sound of Your great name

Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us,
Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up, and all the world will praise
Your great name

All the weak find their strength... at the sound of Your great name
Hungry souls receive grace... at the sound of Your great name
The fatherless, they find their rest... at the sound of Your great name
Sick are healed, and the dead are raised... at the sound of Your great name

Jesus, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us,
Son of God and Man
You are high and lifted up, and all the world will praise
Your great name

Redeemer, My Healer, Lord Almighty
My Savior, Defender, You are My King

The power in the name is great enough to do all these things and more. In fact, Jesus says in John 14:13-14, "And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." Anything? Let's talk about that...

God is not a vending machine. He's not a genie in a lamp you call on for your 3 wishes. It doesn't work like that. What Jesus is telling us is that if you are trying to do what God has called you to do, He will help you. It won't be impossible - God's plans never are. If what you are doing is to glorify your Father in Heaven, He's going to make it happen. This is not your chance to ask for 3 more wishes or millions of dollars.

And let's also distinguish between something that is "good" and something that "glorifies God." Asking God to heal your dying mother is a "good" thing. But it might be that what brings the most glory to God is a result of her passing. I know that's a tough pill to swallow, but God can see so much farther past our current circumstances. He can see eternal results. I speak on this subject with much authority and experience. I prayed, in Jesus' name, for my mother to be healed. She was not. But now, almost 3 years later, I realize that God was glorified in so many ways after her passing as a result of the experiences we went through during her illness, the funeral, and learning to redefine our family. God knew that. So, while it was painful for us, I know He was actually doing what was best for all of us by not healing her. Make sense? I know, it's hard to grasp. It took me months to get it.

The bottom line is that the beautiful name of Jesus, no matter which "name" you use, has power - power to heal, power to revive, power to cleanse, and power to save. If you call on his mighty name, something amazing is bound to happen...

You know you've been to Guatemala if...

I've compiled a list of 30 of my favorite memories from my recent Guatemala trip. Hopefully my friends will get a little giggle out of some of these.

You know you've been to Guatemala if...

1. You can ride side saddle on the back of a motorcycle along with 6 other family members.

2. You say "whiskey" when you take a picture.

3. You have two basic seasons a year: rainy, and hot.

4. You trust your three-year-old to take care of your infant.

5. You are not a dog or a cat person.

6. You are used to taking cold showers.

7. You understand the mating call of the gecko.

8. "Mud" is your favorite color.

9. You believe that stripes on the road are merely for decoration only.

10. You have been called a "gringo" and it's a compliment.

11. You can buy anything for 10% of the original asking price.

12. You can convert dollars to Qs in your head.

13. You've been served vital organs in your chicken soup.

14. You make corn tortillas for breakfast.

15. You can balance a basket on your head.

16. You think you're an old maid at 18.

17. You can play soccer barefoot.

18. You share a bathroom with scorpions.

19. You've jumped off "the dragon."

20. You've eaten your weight in Pringles.

21. You walk to school with a machete.

22. You've learned the hard way not to play "got your nose".

23. Your baby drinks coffee.

24. You know what a "chicken bus" is... and never want to ride one.

25. You've had a dog wander into your classroom repeatedly.

26. You've made Play-Dough poop.

27. Seeing the Coke truck brought a tear to your eye.

28. You have seen fruit known to make a man go blind.

29. You have no problem going potty on the front porch.

30. You have had one or more cheeks go numb in the van.

31. You can taste the difference between Diet Coke and Coca Light.

32. You know what a "cleavage purse" is.

33. The locals think YOUR accent is funny.

34. You know what mosquito spray tastes like.

35. You've mistaken a grown man for an 12-year-old.

36. Your first-grader wears political t-shirts.

37. You know what a "pick-a-tarian" is.

38. You own at least one Salvavidas bottle.

39. You have ridden 10 or more miles holding your breath down the highway.

40. You own a blue and white soccer jersey.

41. You know who "senor jabon" is.

42. You know how many pounds of coffee can fit into your suitcase.

43. You've played American football with - and gotten schooled by - Guatemalan kids.

44. You ask, "photo?" before you take a picture, and then automatically squat down to show it.

45. You have "gatos".

46. You laugh when you hear "badonkadonk".

47. You've had to quickly slam your van door shut to avoid "stowaways".

48. You know the rules to "giants and midgets".

49. You and your Apple product tie up the available internet connection.

50. You have a desire to come and get sweaty and dirty all over again.

A Revelation About Feet

I have taken for granted the ability I have every day to step out of my bed, onto soft carpet, and walk to wherever I feel the need to go. Not because I take for granted my comfy bed, soft carpet, or climate-controlled home. But because I take for granted feet. Well, that is, until recently.


Many of you know that I have been "laid up" for a couple of weeks following a simple foot surgery. During this time period, I discovered how much walking I do in a day. It had become, at one point, torturous to walk from my recliner to the bathroom, because of the incredible pain in said foot. At night, I couldn't find a comfortable position to lie down in because of the pain. I had numbness and tingling for a few days, and swelling for several days. I realized that I depended an awful lot on my two feet. And even though I still had one fully operational foot, it seemed that the pair was doomed for failure as long as one of the two was inoperable.

I had a pair of crutches that I relied heavily on for a few days and I managed to find a way to scoot around as I needed to. I had friends coming to bring me dinner and offering to clean my house and drive me to here and there so that I could give my poor foot time to heal. While I greatly appreciated all the efforts made by my friends, my husband, and my kids, my heart yearned to be free. Oh, how I wanted to run and jump and dance! I was even looking forward to the days of standing in the kitchen over a hot stove just to be able to stand on my own two feet again!!

I learned something during this experience. It's weird how, if you're not careful, God will sneak up and teach you things in the most unexpected ways. But I learned a lesson about the "body of Christ" that we always hear about in church. We, as Christ-followers, make up this "body." We are all dependent upon the rest of the parts to fully function and get us through this mess we call "life". If one foot fails to work properly, walking gets a lot harder. We need people in our lives to support us, to love us, to pick us up, and to pull us along. We need community: people with whom we share a commonality.

I want to thank those in my "community" that supported me for the last two weeks. Thanks to my church family with your incredible meals. Thanks to my sweet friends who brought food, magazines, movies, and offered to drive me around and run my errands. Thanks to my kids who did a billion little "favors" for me while I wasn't walking. And a great big thanks to my incredible husband, who put up with me the whole time and never once got cross with me. It must be love!

If ever I was to be the "hands and feet" of God - going and doing what He asked to further His kingdom - these precious angels I call friends would be my "supportive orthpedic shoes" that have helped me move along. :)

Guatemala trip, in a nutshell

I had the pleasure of spending a week in the beautiful country of Guatemala. Many of my friends and family asked about my trip. I wanted to share with you some highlights of that trip.

Day One - arrival in Guatemala

Our flight landed before lunch into Guatemala City. After gathering our team and all of our luggage, we hopped into the van and made our way from Guatemala City up to Antigua. Guatemala City is not one of my favorite places. It's very urban. Very crowded. A city bustling with life. But it's just too crowded. People everywhere. It's like going into downtown Los Angeles - you almost miss out on what there is to see because of all the other people there. But Antigua, that is different. Antigua is the oldest city in our hemisphere. It's beautiful. Surrounded by active volcanoes and nestled among coffee plantations, it's got a quaint old-world feel to it. I love Antigua. We visited the mercado, one of my least favorite places, on this day. I opted not to go inside because I'm not a fan of hanging meat. I stayed outside and watched people coming and going, buying and selling. I'm a people-watcher.

After the mercado, we took a shopping trip to one of the local grocers to load up on snacks for the long drive from Antigua to the coast, the week at the drill site, and the drive back.

Day two - breakfast, church and travel
We rise early on Sunday to go into Antigua to enjoy breakfast at a little place called Cafe Condessa. This cafe, as delicious as it is, offers a lot more scenery and mystery than it does food. Legend holds that a count found his countess having an affair with hired help and he killed them both, putting their bones in the walls. During renovation, workers found skeletons in the walls. True or not, it definitely adds atmosphere and allure to the bistro-style restaurant. It has lovely fountains, outdoor seating, and the best real-fruit smoothies you'll find anywhere. Here's a picture of Matt & I inside the cafe:

After stopping in the square to buy banana bread (and trust me, this banana bread is worth a special trip!), we headed back to the team house to gather up our stuff and get ready for church. The church is evangelical, laid-back, and similar in style and content to our church here in Sugar Land. I enjoy hearing songs popular back home sung in Spanish by a crowd of Spanish and English speakers alike.

After church, we load up and begin our trip from Antigua to the coastal community of Champerico. The ride is about 4 hours in a van about as comfortable as riding in a cardboard box duct-taped to a skateboard. The roads are bumpy and in disrepair and the rules of driving are... well... nonexistant. Anything goes. Drivers play "chicken" down two-lane roads against other cars, motorcycles, 18-wheelers, ambulances, whatever comes down the path. This is honestly my favorite and least favorite part of the trip. During this drive you will see some amazing geography, like this rock:

And the hillsides covered with lean-tos and "houses" like these:


Once we arrive in Champerico, we get our hotel rooms and settle in for the evening. At this point, everyone is exhausted and looking forward to a hot meal, and a soft bed. Well, at least our food was hot. The hotel rooms are far from luxurious, lacking hot water and towels made of anything softer than sandpaper. But we are not here to be tourists. We are here to serve a community with needs greater than a pillow-top mattress. So, we pray, we eat, we talk, we sleep. And the next morning, we begin our real work...

Day three - drilling & community work begins
We leave the hotel before 7 am. First stop: pick up the drill rig. Once we have all our equipment, we head into the village where we will be serving. This village is called 20 de Octubre. While the "drill team" sets up the rig, discusses the plan, and begins their work at the drill site, the "hygiene team" begins our work, too. We head into the village, door-to-door, inviting women from the community to come into the village to learn about hygiene and the maintenance of their new well. For the most part, we are greeted warmly. Few decline our invitation, although we know that half will not show. Though most of us on the team do not speak fluent Spanish, smiles are universal and we exchange them warmly.

By lunchtime, we have visited the community and have also prepared the first lesson we will teach to the children - handwashing.

Most people don't even really think about this as something that needs to be specially taught. But it does. A lot of people just simply do not know basic hygiene habits. Not because they are stupid, but because no one ever really told them how to do it right. And poor hygiene leads to disease and illness. We want to stop that. We want people to live long, healthy, active lives and thrive. Hopefully, we accomplished that.

Day four - drilling and hygiene continues
Drilling by this day has progressed. The team will drill down to nearly 200 feet. On this day, they will finish drilling the bore hole.

This afternoon, I taught a class to the ladies of the village about dental hygiene. Admittedly, not one of my finer moments. This day was extremely hot, I was tired, dehydrated, and feeling a little uneasy. I had difficulty concentrating. But I managed to teach the lesson without passing out, so I call that a victory. We also taught the children the same lesson and handed out toothbrushes.

Day five - well improvement, hygiene
With the drilling complete, the men cleaned up the rig and prepared the casing to be lowered into the well. At this point, the well stops being a "hole" and starts becoming a "well".

The best part of this day, by far, was the water...

Everything tested well. We knew we had found a clean, reliable, safe drinking water source. It felt good. It felt good to know that we were instrumental in God's plan to provide the community with clean water, and teach them how to keep it - and themselves - clean. I know that God was praised that day.

Day six - dedicate the well, travel back to Antigua
The final steps to make the hole into a well are done on this day. All the hardware is attached, and the pump is lowered into the hole:


At the end of it all, this is what it's all about:

After the dedication service at the church, we load up and head back up to Antigua. The drive is long, but 90% of us pass out on the way. We can overlook the discomfort of the rickety van and terrible roads - we are exhausted. The bunk beds of the Antigua team house have never looked better. That night, we enjoy Domino's pizza, talk about our "adventures", fellowship, and praise God for our health and safety. Then, we call it a night.

Day seven - tourist!
Most of us sleep in. We enjoy a delicious home-cooked breakfast at the team house before heading out to sight-see, shop, and enjoy the city of Antigua. Our first stop is the giant cross that overlooks Antigua. Next, we visit the jade factory (one of my favorite stops). Then, we enjoy lunch before we shop. The shopping is an experience not to be missed. We bought 10 lbs of coffee, a jade chess set, a purse, 3 socker jerseys, 1 soccer jacket, 2 Christmas ornaments, 2 decorative water bottle holders, 2 book marks, 3 bracelets, a wooden cross, 2 magnets, jade earrings, 2 jade pendants, a picture frame, a Mayan figurine, a shotglass, 6 Cuban cigars, and 2 t-shirts for about $150. If you're not negotiating, you're over paying by at least double! There is an art to negotiating a bargain here, and I personally like it! Dave Ramsey would approve! The shopping is almost as fun as the actual buying! And if you see it in one store or booth, you're sure to see it in another! No need to continue negotiating with a vendor who won't budge. It's a lot of fun, and I look forward to this part of the trip every time.

With our loot in hand, we head back to the team house. We eat one last dinner together, talk, and head off to bed. Morning comes early for this team.

Final day - travel home
We leave for the airport before the sun rises. We load up the van with our luggage, load ourselves into the van, and head down the mountain toward Guatemala City. With the airport in sight, we shake the sleep from our eyes and prepare to head back to the States. We clear security and watch the sun rise through the terminal windows. Then, the quick flight over the Gulf and back into Texas. We're tired. We're hungry. We're cranky. We're ready to go back to bed (we've been up since 3 am). We get through customs, get our luggage, and drive home. Maybe this would be a good time to reflect on our trip, but we're too exhausted. The laundry can wait...

After a few days of unpacking, washing filthy Guatemalan mud from our clothes, and distributing the gifts and souveniers, we realize that the year we have to wait from now until the next trip is a long one.

We are signed up for Guatemala 2012. Can't wait...